


Always You

by Always_something



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: F/M, Hurt/Comfort, Sherlolly - Freeform, before season 3
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-04-18
Updated: 2014-04-18
Packaged: 2018-01-19 19:36:44
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,515
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1481503
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Always_something/pseuds/Always_something
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It is his nature: consuming, destructive, and addictive. He is addicted to her. To everything she is, everything he'll never be.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Always You

**Author's Note:**

> I kinda wrote this fic for me but I thought SHERLOLLY! YAY. Must share. Please be gentle, this is my first time.   
> I do not own Sherlock nor any of its characters!

Ever so softly he taps on their bedroom door, asking permission to enter. There is no response, she doesn't protest nor allow him in. He takes the hint and lets her be. The fear he saw earlier in her sincere brown eyes shook him to his very core. He wants to barge in and hold her until the end of time, he wants to tell her how sorry he is, how he’ll never harm her. This time isn't like any other time they fight, actually he is the one that does the fighting, she never fights back, this time he has cut deep enough that the wounds won't heal on their own. It is his nature: consuming, destructive, and addictive. He is addicted to her. To everything she is, everything he'll never be. 

 

He used to think of love with such disdain until John came along and showed him how nice it is to be wanted. He used to think of love as a weakness and his thought was confirmed after Moriarty used his friends against him. He vowed never to love, never to care. Until, a mousy pathologist crept her way into his icy heart. When he was too weak to care of himself while dismantling Moriarty’s criminal web he sought refuge in her touch. Who is better to take care of him than the deads’ doctor? Wasn’t he dead after all? After she mended him, she hugged him and he froze. He abhorred physical contact but surprisingly he found her hug pleasant. On nights where the winds mourned Sherlock’s fate, Molly would take care of him as if he were the center of her entire universe. She would clean his wounds and dress them with so much tenderness it was beyond Sherlock’s understanding. How could her hands be so warming, comforting and yet clinical? Time after time her touch became intoxicating, he couldn’t keep her out of his system. She would always still his raging mind, whether it was her heavenly smell or her radiant smile. His mind longed for her and the soothing effect she has on him. She always smiled at him, her smiles conveyed a million emotions but they were never pitiful. 

He wanted to abort the mission of clearing his name for many times because he felt like he had nothing significant to go back to. He used to be satisfied to just wrap his dainty fingers around his dear violin and coax all kind of melodies out of it but now it doesn’t feel like it’s enough. All his friends have moved on with their lives, and his brother was a major factor in his demise (Mycroft was barely tolerable anyways). But when he thinks of Molly Hooper and how she has stopped her life for him and slowly turned it into a life that Sherlock Holmes might adapt to he feels genuinely puzzled. He thinks of his favorite cologne, his shaving kit, his pajamas and the huge stack of medical supplies at her flat. It was all for him. But why?! Why hadn’t she kicked him out since the beginning? Finally when understanding dawned on him something in his chest cringed then warmed. It was sentiment. As much as he hates to admit it he knows that sentiment saved his life over and over. At last, one final thread in Moriarty’s web remains, Sebastian Moran (James’ second in command). He told her that this was his final step in the walk back to the land of the living.  
xxx  
“He was right..Bless his soul he was right. But do tell me, Mister Holmes, how would you like your heart to be burned out of you?” Asked Moran coolly.  
“ I never was one for meta-…” Swiftly, came Sherlock’s bullet ending Moran’s sentence and life.

 

xxx

He started to run as if his life depended on it, the rain wasn’t helping and he couldn’t find a cabbie at 3 am in the morning. His strong well-built legs took the stairs four steps at a time and when he finally reached her threshold he was about to pick the lock (out of habit) but he stopped when he remembered that Molly hated it. So he banged on her door with a force that nearly broke the wooden barrier.  
Molly was awakened with a series of startling bangs on her door. She was terrified. Had someone finally figured out whom Sherlock turned to for help and wanted to use her to lure him out of his hiding? Was Sherlock badly injured? She thought that if they wanted to kidnap her they certainly wouldn’t knock on the door, so it has to be the latter. She jolted out of bed grabbing the first aid kit and ran towards her door. All her worries were banished when she saw a soaking wet Sherlock towering over her with no serious injuries to speak of. Dumbfounded with the realization that this agony is over she released the kit from her firm grip.  
As soon as the kit hit the ground Sherlock held Molly as if she were a life raft and she held him as if he were her anchor. They held each other for so long, they were blissfully lost in time. She broke free from his hold to tell him that she was glad it’s all over but before she could open her mouth, one of his hands snaked its way down her waist and the other cupped her cheek. She felt his warm breath dance across her lips as she observed the battlefield of where the sun’s golden rays clashed with blue oceans that were his eyes. Their hearts were beating erratically as their eyes made heartfelt promises and vows. A perfect fit for each other they locked lips together, sealing their vows. Their kiss is a declaration the she is his as much as he is hers.  
After their flawless exchange ended she realized that he was too wet for his own good so she told him to go rest on her couch while she makes tea and grabs him a cotton shirt. He simply nodded seeming disappointed with the loss of her warmth. She returned to Sherlock to give him his shirt and headed to the kitchen to make the tea. She came back to the living room with two mugs of English Breakfast tea, she offered one to Sherlock and sat herself down next to him. Minutes passed and she found Sherlock setting his mug down and elegantly leaning his head down her lap, yearning for her comfort. She instinctively put her mug away to toy with his still damp curls, he purred when she started sifting her slim fingers through his dark locks. She saw content grace his face, she never saw him like that. He never allowed anyone to see this side of him. They both stayed like that until the steady rhythm of their breaths lulled them to sleep.  
xxx  
Sherlock was resurrected, Sherlock was punched by John, Sherlock was welcomed back by all, and Sherlock is married. Sherlock thought marriage was absurd for many reasons and one of the reasons being that most of the murderers are insecure or jealous or greedy husbands and wives.. Molly was there to help piece him back together when he was broken, she was the only link to his previous life, and is his long lost home. He couldn’t let her be used by anyone; he had to declare his possessiveness of her, because she is his pathologist, his Molly. He knew that those feelings were primal but he couldn’t help himself...The past year changed him so much it was frightening and endearing. While he was in hiding and his sole purpose was to destroy the network by any means possible (that included several gruesome accidents to who didn’t cooperate) his dark side was nurtured and his inner demons reveled in his gory thoughts and actions. It was her light that kept his darkness at bay when he came back to (the only part left of the life he is fighting to get back) her. He learned how to allow himself to care again, by this point he knew he couldn’t go on his life without having her around him. She softened him. He is noticeably less harsh in his remarks; he was tamed but not completely. Every once in a while his demons break free to roam around, controlling him. Molly’s fragile heart was always causality in those times. Which brings us to now. She was used to his mistreatment only because she knows that all this is new for him, all these feelings, also because he always makes it up to her. She’ll always forgive him. Always. She finally pulled herself together and opened the bedroom door to find Sherlock slumped down against the wall waiting for her. He got up as fast as a lightning-bolt hesitating whether to approach her or not until she made the decision for him. She pulled him into a tight embrace that spoke volumes of forgiveness and ceaseless love.


End file.
